


Call an Exterminator

by gladdecease



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: comment_fic, Episode: s01e18 Parasite, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-31
Updated: 2010-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-17 02:30:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladdecease/pseuds/gladdecease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more than one way to get rid of a parasite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call an Exterminator

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/57979.html?thread=13932155#t13932155), in response to [neshel](http://neshel.livejournal.com/profile)'s prompt: Heroes, Mohinder/Sylar, He didn't pull the trigger

Mohinder stares at the computer, hardly believing what this program is telling him. Four simple genes are all that cause these incredible abilities. He can build a new list, help these people understand what they're going through. _Save_ them.

"And what about me? Don't I deserve to be saved?" Sylar asks, weakly. Mohinder startles; had he spoken that aloud? Sylar watches him with a drug-addled glaze to his eyes. "Aren't I just a victim too? I didn't ask for this."

Didn't ask for the ability to kill? Or - now that he thinks about it, Mohinder has no idea what Sylar's original power is. Could that power awakening have also awakened Sylar's blood-thirst? In a low voice, he asks, "And what would you have me do?"

"Help find a way. Give me salvation." For a moment, Mohinder almost believes he is sincere. But he waits too long to respond, and Sylar snaps, shouting, "Give me that damn list so I can sink my teeth in!" He moves as much as he can, rocking his chair and groaning in frustration, straining against his duct tape bindings.

That decides it, Mohinder thinks. Standing up, he circles to the other side of his desk. Mistaking his movement for an approach, Sylar recovers his composure and continues. "I'm a natural progression of the species. Evolution is a part of nature, and nature kills. Simple, right?" The look on his face is almost hopeful. Mohinder feels sick.

He lifts the gun he'd picked up and points it at Sylar. "What you've done is not evolution, it's murder," he spits out. "What _I_ am doing is revenge. Now I can fulfill my duty as a son."

He aims for Sylar's head. With the brain destroyed, he has no chance of surviving. One shot, and a dangerous serial killer will be gone forever. He just has to readjust his aim because his hand is shaking, and he can do it.

Good God, he thinks, am I really going to kill a man?

A slow smile creeps across Sylar's face as Mohinder realizes the answer to his own question. "You can't do it," he says confidently. "You're too good to kill me, aren't you?"

"Be quiet," Mohinder hisses.

"No, I see," Sylar corrects himself. "It's not that you're too good to do it. You're too _weak_ to do it. You'd be doing the world a favor to kill me, but you won't get blood on your hands. You can't." He laughs a little to himself. "In fact, you - "

Struck across the face by the butt of the gun, Sylar slumps in his chair, unconscious. Panting, Mohinder tosses the gun aside. "I _said_ , be quiet."

Pushing Sylar back in his chair and assuring himself that the serial killer is out cold, Mohinder goes about readjusting the bindings. Extra duct tape can never hurt, he's learned. And the curare might need -

The curare drip is shut off. Mohinder loses much of the color in his face as he checks Sylar's arms and realizes that the duct tape has been cut telepathically.

Taking apart the drip, Mohinder removes the small plastic stopper that Sylar had used to his advantage, covering the hole it leaves behind with duct tape. Taping Sylar's legs to the chair, and adding more tape to his arms, Mohinder tries not to think about how close he came to being helpless against a fully powered murderer.

Once convinced that Sylar is secured again, Mohinder goes to his phone. He takes a moment to consider who he should call - the police... the FBI... a certain alternative organization - and dials, keeping a watchful eye on Sylar all the while.


End file.
